


The guest

by werfel



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-18
Updated: 2012-03-18
Packaged: 2017-11-02 03:16:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/364379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/werfel/pseuds/werfel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Concealed in greenery, hiding within the shadows, there is something unaccounted for. Natsume, Matoba.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The guest

It is after assessing the results of an activated trap that Seiji Matoba notices the presence and notifies his aide. Concealed in greenery, hiding within the shadows, there is something unaccounted for. A nearby sound, out of sync with the usual rustles of the forest, comes from behind a nearby tree. Inspecting the source reveals nothing.

Were this presence hostile, surely it would have fallen prey to one of Matoba’s devices, strewn about from branch to branch. The traps hang undisturbed. Matoba most likely would have at least been the target of some attack; he is not welcome in this forest, his hunting grounds. The cleverest of youkai would have made its move sooner or later after waiting for the most opportune of moments. The exorcist has been in the midst of a hunt for some time now, disregard for humans would have been enough to mistake any of his movements for carelessness. 

Alas, Matoba has nothing of great importance to take note of. The presence is relegated to some corner of his mind. The presence is harmless for now, even if unexpected. This isn’t what he came here for.

Later, the presence emerges once more, in a new form: Matoba learns of an intruder in his residence, a human male, teenage. Found wandering by the front door, he has since been apprehended, confined in the basement cells; a victim of his own curiosity. Making his way to the cells with his aide, something catches Matoba’s eye: a pair of sneakers poke out from fabric cloaking a suspicious form underneath the staircase. He calls out to it, his voice tinged with impatience. The form rises, scurrying away as a response. Master and aide make chase; the fabric slips off, revealing the identity of the pursued.

Matoba stops in his tracks. Short, wild blonde hair bounces with each frantic step the boy makes. He wears a school uniform with his sneakers and does not look behind. Familiarity settles. Seiji Matoba watches Takashi Natsume escape deeper into the residence.

 

Despite his relaxed walk and demeanor, Matoba hasn’t given up on locating Natsume. He simply chooses to assess Natsume’s actions further. Interest lights up his visible eye as discovers the results of the teenager’s impromptu appearance in his home. His youkai servant is trapped in a cell. The only evidence of Takashi Natsume’s previous captivity is a severed rope discarded by the cell. A trashcan’s contents lay on the floor in another room. An amused smile rests on Matoba’s lips.

Much to Matoba’s amusement, he finds himself in a game of cat and mouse launched by the carelessness of another, his own home the playing field. His prey wanders aimlessly, probably hoping to stumble upon the exit or at least recover his belongings… or both. He can’t be too far now. Takashi Natsume seems gentle, but he has personally witnessed his wit beforehand. He’ll be waiting for the moment to act. So Matoba must find out where he waits.

Something round and small darts away further down the corridor. Matoba moves in silent strides, guided by the same feeling he felt earlier in the forest. As he moves, he notices almost-whispers that become two muffled voices; one controlled yet stern, the other harsh, hostile and inhuman. 

The voices argue behind a closed door, growing louder and louder. They seem to have forgotten their current situation. Something has tricked them into false safety. Matoba eavesdrops, but not for long. Natsume and the youkai are so focused on their conversation that he feels as if he were the one intruding, the one out of place in the residence.

Sliding the door open does not cause Natsume, his back turned, to pause as fast as the youkai does. As Natsume gasps, Matoba has already grabbed his wrist. He crouches by him, offering a contented smile. Their eyes meet, panicked brown eyes facing a lone red eye.

“It’s been awhile, Takashi Natsume.”


End file.
